


You are sweeter than my solitude

by lycheerio



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned YuWin, minor johnhyuck, minor quarter life crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26606575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lycheerio/pseuds/lycheerio
Summary: “‘Loneliness’.” Taeyong read from the small plaque underneath the image and Mark felt laid bare, felt like his emotions had been thrown on a projector and shown to the entire world, his throat clogging and his eyes stinging until Taeyong squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Are you lonely, Mark?”
Relationships: Mark Lee/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 16
Kudos: 118





	You are sweeter than my solitude

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a cute Warsan Shire poem that feels so _Mark_ it hurts.
> 
> This whole thing was a ride and I'm sorry it seems so rushed at the end, especially when i love this pairing so much, but I started this before 100 was released.
> 
> Also Ruby is mentioned twice because this was written before she passed and i couldn't bare to edit her out.

It was strange that when he was growing up, some people thought him dumb, slow, and lacking in sense. The truth was that Mark often felt like he was too full of thoughts; overthinking everything, reaching out into the world with tangled strands of his existence and pleading for something or somebody to reach back.

In the quiet of his room (always quiet, always empty), with nothing but the soft rhythm of his music in the background and paper in front of him, Mark felt like he could start forming the world in his hands. Like he could take everything and build it anew, make it shine in a way it had never before, make it breathe when it had felt limp and lifeless before.

In the loud of the rest of the world, his friends surrounding him, he could feel unstoppable, like he could fly off if not tethered by rationality, but sometimes it felt like he could break apart, everything brittle and aching and lonely.

In the dark, the solid silence and the oppressive nothingness that came from the world around him turning off, Mark felt small, overwhelmed, tripping through his thoughts as they hurtled through his mind. It forced him inwards, digging into the small insecurities and scratching them wide, turning them into gaping wounds that made it impossible to settle.

“You look tired,” Johnny chewed on his toast and cast a worried eye over the slumped shoulders, the dark circles and the air of exhaustion Mark wore like a second skin.   
“Are you still not sleeping well?”

“It’s just stress, you know? No big, it’ll be gone when we’ve finished with this new group’s music.” Mark reached for the coffee pot and ignored the look Johnny sent him at his obvious lie, the lie he’d told time and time again.

-

Mark loved work, loved every part of it - almost every part of it. He loved working with new artists, listening to what they were and what they could become. He liked working on tracks, felt like his heart was bursting when he heard his own lyrics transformed into music. He even liked adjusting the lyrics, adjusting the sound, recording and re-recording.

What he hated was when companies involved themselves and asked that the concept be changed, the sound and the soul of it lost behind ‘more marketable’ versions of the track.

It hurt the most when he’d put his heart into something, worked for hours to make something that felt like him, through and through, only for it to be torn apart and pieced back together by some other producer who just didn’t _understand_.

An email appeared in his inbox and Mark felt himself wilt, read that his work for the latest group, the next big thing from one of the big three, needed to be simplified, that the rap was too fast and it needed more _feeling_ to it, more hope to it, more _love_.

“I’ve never even been in love.” Mark told the email, glared at the screen and the dates he was expected to have it all done by, the general outline and the vague promise that they maybe, possibly, might use his work.

“I thought you loved me, Markie.” Yuta was suddenly on him, curling around his shoulders and acting like a dead weight on his shoulders, full pout in play.

“Debatable,”Mark teased, letting himself be dragged from his chair and away from his work-station and into the middle of the room where Yuta always insisted they have their ‘1 minute friendship hugs’ which Mark usually pretended to hate.

“Are you okay?” Yuta asked when Mark let himself be hugged without complaint, melted into the warmth that was one of his closest friends, burying his face in Yuta’s shoulder. “You look sad, tired. I’m worried about you, Markie.”

“Everything is just harder at the moment. They keep wanting changes and-” Mark made a frustrated noise, buried himself deeper into Yuta, into the familiarity of him. “The songs don’t even feel like me anymore.”

-

_Per our last correspondence_ \- the email started, making Mark laugh. There was only one big wig producer at any of the big three that Mark found himself liking and he felt like they always pulled through when he needed a pick-me-up the most.

_I’ve decided that you’re right, the company you mentioned (that I totally don’t work for, don’t fact check that or look at my email address) should definitely eat a giant bag of dicks and be forced to atone for their sins. I will set my dog on them immediately, though she is small and may only be able to chew ankles, I’m sure she will chew them to the bone for you._   
  
I’m sorry they pulled that shit on you, they’re just suited ass-monkeys who wouldn’t know good music if it smacked them in the face.   
  
It would be cool if you came to work for us, but I can’t encourage it too much because then you’d have to face even worse misuses of your creative property.   
  
Keep up the great work and I’ll train Ruby (my dog, not a random stranger) to chew faster.   
  
TY~ ♡

Mark had always thought about working for a big company, had even been offered a few jobs early on in his career, but he didn’t want to be locked in, didn’t want to have to limit himself. And even if he was limited in some ways being freelance, he still got to work with more groups, work with different artists and watch his music bloom from all corners and all genres instead of being performed by a select few.

TY understood, even more restricted by working for just one label, having to make music that met the concepts of the idols and artists they worked with. _‘OH GOD, let me do something different before I my brain boils’_ was a sentiment they’d both shared.

There was the possibility that Mark had the tiniest, smallest, barely there crush on TY, followed his soundcloud, his barely used instagram where there were pictures of food, a dog and his work, listened to the raw versions of his music when it was offered to Mark for an opinion.

_This is technically not allowed, but as long as you don’t tell anybody, who will know._ TY would message cheekily with each shared piece.

_Should I adopt a dog to help, people have two ankles after all. Or maybe I can buy Ruby some chew toys so I can invest in her future chewing possibilities.  
  
Mark_

-

It wasn’t that Mark didn’t meet people, didn’t connect to people or date them, it was just the moments with a faceless person across the internet made him feel more than previous partners ever had.

He spent his nights, when they were too long and sleep was still too far away, the moon disappearing, dawn stretching it’s first moments of light into the air, thinking about TY, thinking about what he’d look like, what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. Mark would listen to the pieces of music TY had written and imagine each note was a moment between them.

Mark had never been in love but he thought the way he felt sharing emails with TY was probably as close as he was going to get for a while, and it was definitely okay, it felt right.

“Okay, you sound like a bad Meg Ryan movie.” Donghyuck was looking at him with a disgusted face, like he wasn’t sitting in Johnny’s lap and letting himself be fed pieces of popcorn, the movie they’d put on nothing more than background noise. Their entire deal of overt romantic and physical affection wasn’t awful, it was sickening. “This guy could look like something you find on the bottom of a shoe and we need you to get laid before you think he’s your Tom Hanks.”

“I don’t care about looks.” Popcorn hit the side of Mark’s head, and he watched it roll across the carpet and under the table. “I refuse to have this apartment brought down to lower than an 8 because you bring home a shoe-face.”

Mark huffed and folded his arms, glaring at the screen without really paying attention, on the defensive about his not-boyfriend from the internet.

“You don’t even live here, you’re not allowed to have an opinion.” Not technically true, Donghyuck had been Mark’s friend before he’d become Johnny’s boyfriend, was probably Mark’s best friend, not that that information was shared unless they were both drunk. He just wasn’t allowed to have an opinion about TY. TY was special, off limits, special and different and-

_Stop, god, you sound pathetic even in your own head._

“He could look like an international model, baby, you don’t know.” Johnny popped another piece of popcorn and pressed it into Donghyuck’s mouth when it looked like he was about to argue and followed it up with a kiss behind Donghyuck’s ear.

“If he looked like a model, his face would be on the internet and not just pictures of his dog and food.” Donghyuck waved his phone and Mark was mortified to see it was TY’s instagram page because apparently Donghyuck had also done his digging. “Only creepy weirdo’s hide their creepy weirdo faces.”

“He’s shy, he wants to keep his face hidden, he doesn’t want people to know who he is because fans of idols can be mean!” Mark defended, reaching for Donghyuck’s phone to possibly throw it out of the window or flush it down the toilet. Maybe he could throw it into the microwave and burn the whole apartment down.

“Yeah sure, shy of his monster face, hiding it from mean idol fans who would judge his gross ugly face.”

That night, Mark prayed, he prayed for the usual things, the safety of his friends and family, their continued happiness, to find his own happiness - maybe that happiness could be in TY.

-

_Your latest soundcloud track was fire!!! I’m glad you got the chance to make something of your own.  
  
Mark_

-

Sometimes the lyrics would fall from him, completely unstoppable, until pages upon pages of his notebooks were filled with his thoughts and emotions and his hand was cramped from how much he’d written.

Recently, the words were stuck, clinging to the edges of his brain and refusing to let themselves be known, leaving Mark to tear out page after page of his notebook, scribbled out words and frustration filling his bin.

He couldn’t find the music, couldn’t find the drive to keep moving forward, to create and it was becoming a professional problem, deadlines looming and passing, half-baked songs sent over that were instantly rejected. At this rate, Mark would be blacklisted and have to hope that his parents would let him move back into their house.

“I’m a hack, I’m done… I’ve lost it all.” Mark had his face pressed against the polished wood of a café table, the smell of coffee and the idle chatter of other patrons filling the air around him, too much to his already fried brain.

His notebooks, piled high at home and at work, might as well be ornaments with how little he’d touched them the last few weeks.

Jeno sipped his coffee slowly as Jaemin slammed his back like he was chugging beer at a frat party, already on his second cup, looking like he wanted to order a third in a bid to destroy his brain and nervous system.

“Maybe you’re just feeling sorry for yourself.” Jaemin said, slamming his cup down and stealing Mark’s coffee when he realised Mark hadn’t even bothered taking a sip of it. “And you just need to take a break before you burn yourself out completely.”

“What if I take a break and then nobody wants to hire me again, what if they just avoid my work and I become obscure and I have to move to a cave and hide there forever and-”

“Stop, you’re spiralling.” Jeno stroked Mark’s hair and Mark let himself be lulled into comfort for a few short moments before everything came tumbling back worse than before.

“I’m sure you can take a couple of weeks off, or a month or something and everybody would still want to work with you when you went back. You’re good at your job and people _know it_. Let yourself relax for once.” Jaemin had a point, but Mark didn’t want to admit it, too anxious about all the Marks of the world and the lack of Mark shaped gaps. He would be leaving a space that could easily be filled within a day.

“I’ll think about it.” A lie, but Jaemin didn’t need to know that, not when he was all hopped up on caffeine and in the kind of mood that meant everybody you had to agree of he’d go into a frenzy of words, face paced Korean that Mark had trouble keeping up with despite the many years he’d been in the country.

-

_Thanks, it didn’t fit anywhere so I thought why not throw it out there. I had considered offering it up to a better rapper, somebody who could hit the beat a little faster but - well, you have been so busy lately, I didn’t want to ask too much of you._   
  
TY~ ♡

“A love heart? Cute. When’s the wedding?” Mark snapped his laptop shut and glared at Johnny who was hovering over his shoulder, laughing in his face like he hadn’t just invaded Mark’s privacy.

“That’s just him, that’s what he does.” Some of the stickers on the top of Mark’s laptop were peeling, the edges starting to curl upwards and he decided to focus on them instead of the knowing look on Johnny’s face. “He’s just friendly.”

“Okay, sure, I always send hearts in emails to ‘colleagues’.” Johnny patted his shoulder and then made his way through the kitchen, hunting for food that Mark knew wasn’t there having already been through the same routine just twenty minutes before.

“Can we just leave it?” Mark pleaded, body aching as he slumped over and pressed his fingers to his temples, head throbbing with how tired he was.

“C’mon Markie, I was just teasing. Are you okay?” Johnny massaged his shoulders, pressed at the knots there until Mark was groaning and letting himself relax into it.

“Jaemin thinks I should take a break.” He admitted.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this and you should take note of this moment as it will never happen again and will never leave this room. But I think Jaemin is right, and you should take a break.” Johnny stopped the massage to force Mark to look at him, to take in his pale face and sunken eyes, the way his body was hunched.

Mark wanted to shrink under the stare, the intensity of it and nodded before he fully realised what he’d agreed to. It was hard to say no to Johnny when he had his big brother face on. 

Mark buried his face in his hands, scrubbed at his face until it felt raw under his fingers.

“Chicken or Pizza tonight? I’m going to order in.” Johnny was smiling again, like nothing had happened and it grew wider when Mark’s stomach gave a well timed rumble.

-

_I’ll be taking the next month off - short notice, I know, but I think if I don’t my friends will tie me to the bed and force me to take some time away.  
Telling you now so you don’t worry about me having been murdered and plan an epic revenge.  
  
Mark_

When Mark told Yuta he’d be out of the studio, not taking jobs and not looking at his emails and had to endure a four minute friendship hug with hair petting and advanced hang-out plans. It was so dramatic it made Mark’s ears turn red and want to hide for the rest of the day.

“It’ll be good for you, I’ve been so worried about you Markie, I started slipping multivitamins in your coffee.” Yuta sighed, rolling his chair around the room like he didn’t have his own job to do.

“You what? What?!”

_Noooooo, what am I supposed to do without you? I refuse to be Markless, so take my number:  
082 115 5564 1069  
If you don’t get in touch, know that I’ll be stalking you across the internet until I find you and can start complaining at you again.  
  
TY~ ♡_

“Oh my god, oh fuck.” Mark stared at the email, stared at the number and felt his heart try and fling itself from his chest. They’d been talking through email for eight months, almost every single work day for the last five months and Mark felt like they were suddenly taking a huge step in their relationship.

_Not a relationship_ his brain supplied.

“Oh holy shit.” Yuta agreed, reading over Mark’s shoulder, bony chin digging into his collarbone and making Mark try to flinch away. “I think he really likes you, Markie.”

“Or he’s just being friendly? Or worried. Everybody else is worried - or maybe he’s just trying to scout the competition, or-” A hand, warm and dry, was slapped over his mouth and then he was being spun around to face Yuta and a very serious expression where humour usually sat.

“Could you just accept that somebody might like you for once? You’re likeable and damn hot, why wouldn’t someone want to get to know you and also get to _know_ you?”

-

Mark knew he was likeable, had enough friends that he knew he had something appealing about him and had been approached in enough clubs to know he had a certain level of attractiveness but the thought of TY liking him, a big shot, big company producer with a voice that growled through demos, actual fame and money at the tips of his fingers, was doubtful. It was enough doubt that the number burned in his phone, unused for the first two days he had it.

“Come on, hideous shoe faced monster’s shoot their shot at anybody who breathes near them, not everybody can be a ten like me.” Donghyuck was sprawled over him, looking at the same empty text box that Mark had been staring at almost all day. Mark pushed him until he was falling to the floor with a thud and a pained groan. It almost felt like therapy.

“Have you tried ‘hi’?” Johnny suggested, stepping over Donghyuck and sitting next to Mark on the sofa, looking down at his boyfriend with an amused expression. “That’s always a good opener.”

“I don’t need help, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Mark argued and practically ran to his room to hide under the safety of his duvet to stare at the empty text box in peace.

Deep breath, he could do this. They talked every day, this was the same as that just in a different format. He wasn’t held back by _feelings_ or _crushes_ because they’d never met and you couldn’t crush on somebody you’d never met, right? Right?!

_**Mark**  
Hi…_

_**TY**  
Hi??_

_**Mark**  
This is Mark, from work, well not from work  
Kind of from work, we do work together sometimes  
Just not all the time, because we’re not in the same company_

_**TY**  
MARK! I thought you’d forgotten about me (ಥ﹏ಥ) _

“Cute…” Mark muttered, a smile spreading across his face when he realised TY had been waiting for him to message, that it wasn’t just politeness that had made him share his number.

_**Mark**  
Sorry, I didn’t know what I was supposed to message  
It was a very difficult few days_

_**TY**  
So glad you settled on the complex and very poetic ‘hi’  
It really made a huge impression ╮(￣ω￣;)╭_

-

Mark was supposed to be spending his time away from music, and in a way he was. He hadn’t checked his work emails in a week and he had spent at least three days lounging around the apartment until Johnny had forced him into the shower and out of the house because _‘you look homeless and it’s scaring the utensils’_.

He was still permanently glued to his phone though, if he and TY had emailed a lot, they texted even more. An almost constant connection between them, only broken up by sleep and when Taeyong was too busy with work to get back in touch straight away.

It was casual, friendly and sometimes strayed into something flirtier that made Mark flush and rethink his theory on not falling for somebody he’d never seen.

He googled ‘TY’ more times than he could count, adding on song names and the company names and the word ‘producer’ in the hopes of finding anything outside of stock images, group images and sometimes beanie babies.

Mark wanted a face to add to TY so he could imagine the person who loved iced coffee even when it was cold, who had a roommate who was his best friend and favourite person to physically attack when he was feeling playful. He learned that TY cleaned when he was stressed, loved eating but sometimes forgot to eat and had to be reminded by either Mark or his roommate.

Mark was yearning, aching in a way that wasn’t sleep deprivation for the first time in months.

-

_**TY**  
How much febreze is too much febreze and is it bad the pattern on the kitchen floor is starting to fade after how many times I’ve scrubbed it over these last few days?_

_**Mark**  
If somebody walks in and chokes to death because of the febreze then it’s probably too much febreze  
Are you okay? What kind of mess has your company thrown your way this time?_

__

_-_

He eventually opened up about why he was taking a break, about his inability to sleep and the way his body was rebelling more and more every day, feeling vulnerable in his sharing but happy to have an impartial, non-judgemental friend to unload onto.

__

Mark talked about missing Canada, how winter in Korea was never the same and the snow was never as nice, how the heat was too heavy and that Tim Horton’s wasn’t great coffee but he sometimes craved it so badly he had several import websites bookmarked.

__

It was nice, more than nice, made Mark’s chest warm and he ended up scribbling lyrics and song ideas on any paper he could find, old envelopes, the back of bills and once, much to Johnny’s horror, whilst he was half paying attention he’d written on the back of a recently developed polaroid.

__

TY was a sudden staple and it made everything a little easier, a little quieter.

_-_

It was a Tuesday, Johnny was off taking pictures of cute models in cute places, no doubt comparing them to Donghyuck in his mind and getting ready to share every thought of how they were lacking with Mark when he got home but it meant Mark had the apartment to himself.

__

He was taking full advantage of it, sprawled across the sofa in just his underwear and getting too invested in a TV show about baking, judging strangers on their ability to bake even though he’d never successfully fried an egg before.

__

He was great at scrambled eggs though.

__

_**TY**  
Are you busy??_

__

Mark watched a man throw his whole ice-cream cake in a bin and another woman start crying because hers had turned into a puddle of milk.

__

_**Mark**  
I don’t think I know that word means any more  
Ice-cream cake seems hard to make_

____

And then his phone was ringing loudly, the EXO song Donghyuck had set as his ringtone months back blaring at him and the name **TY** flashing on the screen.

____

Mark stared at it, felt his chest tighten and realised he had to keep breathing to live.

____

“H-hello?” He answered, cautious and maybe a little breathless, holding the phone to his ear gingerly like it was a bomb about to explode.

____

“Oh thank god, I’m losing my mind and I know you’re not supposed to be working but I need you. This piece of shit track is kicking my ass and you are the only person I trust to give me what I need.” TY’s voice was higher on the phone, higher than the growling tone he used in his tracks, more melodious in the way it curled around words.

____

The words ‘ _I need you_ ’ swirled around Mark’s mind several times before he remembered to answer.

____

“I can help, I’ll always help you out TY. Don’t worry about it.”

____

“TY?” A laugh, weirdly squeaky and breathless, completely endearing, came from the other side of the phone and Mark sunk further into the sofa as his feelings settled deeper into his chest. He was completely fucked. “It’s Taeyong, or Yong maybe, you can call me TY if you want but that’s just … work stuff. Have I not told you my name before?”

____

“No, but it’s okay. Really. Taeyong is perfect, I mean fine, Taeyong is fine, I like it.” Mark wanted to bludgeon himself to death and looked around the living room desperately searching for something viable when the call ended.

____

Taeyong laughed again, clearly unfussed about the verbal flailing Mark had just thrown at him, this one higher than the last, sweeter and Mark wanted to record it, wanted to turn his voice into music.

____

Donghyuck was wrong, Mark was the weird serial killer in this situation, not Taeyong.

____

The problem track turned out to be an easy fix when they combined their efforts, working together easily and bouncing off of each other in a way that made Mark finally fully understand the word ‘synergy’.

____

It ended up sounding good, really good and Mark couldn’t stop thinking about how well they worked together, imagined them going freelance together, how they could become a duo, big names in the world and-

____

“Are you still there?” Taeyong’s voice broke through Mark’s daydreaming and he was glad it was a phone call so Taeyong couldn’t see the flush working its way across Mark’s cheeks and down his chest.

____

“Sorry, I was just distracted.”

__-_ _

“So you text everyday and now you talk on the phone almost every night but you still haven’t met?” Renjun’s mouth was smeared with sauce and Jeno, a member of the ‘dote on Renjun’ club, wiped it away fondly with Jaemin cooing at them both from the otherside of the table.

____

Mark wanted to throw himself out of the restaurant window.

____

“It’s not like that, we don’t need to meet. And I’m worried he’ll see me and hate me, or maybe Hyuckie was right and a face that only a mother could love is on the other end. Then I lose a friend because I’m a horrible and shallow person.” Mark breathlessly admitted and it was nice to finally have it off of his chest because everything between him and Taeyong seemed too perfect and there had to be _something_.

____

“Oh come on, this guy could probably look like Donghyuck’s butthole and you’d still be into him. I can see it in your stupidly honest eyes, you’re so deep that when we tried to send a rescue submarine to grab you it just exploded because of the water pressure.” Renjun snapped, smacking Mark’s ear.

____

“Actually, they get all crushed like in one of those car compactor things but under the water.” Jeno added, watching Renjun abuse one of his friends like he was hanging the moon instead.

____

“What we mean is that you, Mark, have it so bad that the hearts are floating around your head and occasionally falling into our food.” Jaemin reached over and soothed Mark’s aching ear because he was nice and had probably not hit his coffee drop off point yet.

____

“We just share music and ideas and stuff, sometimes I play guitar and he sings or I sing or we make up dumb raps. It’s not a thing, it’s just stupid.”

____

“Music is the language of love.” Jeno said wistfully, like it was a romantic comedy and not Mark’s life.

____

Mark regretted meeting up with them, regretted the ongoing friendship he had with them and considered dropping his head against the table, even if he was going to end up with a face full of carbonara.

____

“I hate you all, I hate you all so much and I’m never sharing again.”

__-_ _

_**Yongie**  
Do you like dogs?_

____

_**Mark**  
Of course, i'm not heartless_

____

_**Yongie**  
[image attached]  
Do you like this dog?_

____

_**Mark**  
Obviously, who doesn't love tiny dogs that can be held like teddy bears_

____

_**Yongie**  
okay good because this is my dog and our entire relationship depended on your answer  
*friendship  
This is Ruby, the future of ankle chewing._

____

_**Mark**  
I'm glad our friendship is still intact_

____

Mark stared at the word ‘relationship’, the casual typo that made it so breathing was hard and it was the only word he could think about for hours.

____

He wanted it to be true, he wanted to reach for that word and pull it against himself. He wanted to be hopeful and optimistic and part of him wondered if he could be brave enough to turn it into _something_.

____

The pendulum in his brain swung between hopeful thoughts of something sweet and desperate thoughts of something agonisingly painful.

__-_ _

Returning to work had soothed his worries about being forgotten, taking two days into his first week back sifting through a full inbox and trying to prioritise his clients by order of urgency.

____

Mark had taken a month off, a month of sitting around and doing nothing, of letting creativity flow through him without having to force it into any particular direction and it was nice to be able to turn that creativity into something people would hear.

____

Unfortunately, after a month of texting Taeyong, two weeks of voice calls and nothing but growing feelings, a lot of his music had come out sappy, romantic and it made him want to throw himself into traffic when he thought about Taeyong hearing any of it. 

____

It was almost like a confession at this point.

____

“What’s the trouble, Markie?” Yuta waddled his desk chair over, looking like he had been the one to take the holiday with fresh dyed silver hair and a couple of new piercings. Mark felt like a potato next to him.

____

“I don’t have troubles, why would you think I had troubles?”

____

“I know all of your faces, I have all of them memorised after hours upon hours of staring at your beautiful and unique face. A database of Mark Moods - all stored in my mind and my heart.” Yuta held a hand to his chest and Mark couldn’t help but snort out a laugh, punching him in the arm.

____

“Does Sicheng know you love me like this?”

____

“Of course - he is very accepting of our beautiful office romance.”

____

“Oh gross, stop winking at me,” Mark squawked, slapping Yuta’s arm again, trying to push him away from where he was edging further and further into Mark’s personal space.

____

“Then tell me what’s wrong.” 

____

Mark chewed his lip and wondered if he should share, had already had input from half of his friends, had Donghyuck hack into his phone so many times he’d had to start changing the password almost daily, turning off his facial recognition after Donghyuck printed off a giant picture of Mark’s face.

____

“I… I think I really like Taeyong.” Mark could feel his ears burning, could feel heat travelling through him at the embarrassment of admitting it.

____

His palms were sweating and he rubbed them on the fabric of his sweatpants.

____

“And? Wait, that’s the problem?” Yuta flapped a hand at him and laughed like he’d heard the funniest joke ever. “I’ve known you wanted to live in his pocket since your first email exchange - you floated through the day and kept singing Red Velvet songs.”

____

“No, I mean like, I really really like him, like _like **like**_ him.”

____

“One, we’ve discussed your use of the word ‘like’ and how it is something of a problem, especially in situations like this. And two, I don’t see the problem? This isn’t some one-sided thing, he’s messaging and calling you as well, investing all of this time in this thing between the two of you.” Yuta edged even closer, took Mark’s hands in his own and ignored the fact that they were probably still horribly sweaty. “He called you first, he gave you his number first, he sent you emails with hearts in before he’d even heard your voice. You, Mark, are a catch and Taeyong is a smart man who can obviously see this.”

____

“What if he hates how I look, or what if I hate how he looks?” The worry of being shallow was still settled in his gut, the fear that it could all be ruined by being a superficial jerk.

____

“I don’t think you’d care, I think if you look all the way in your little lion heart and think about it properly, think about the man who makes you look less tired and makes you smile more being a sewer dweller, you’d find you don’t actually give a shit.”

__-_ _

Mark woke with the shape of his phone imprinted on his face and realised he’d fallen asleep whilst on the phone to Taeyong again, his screen slightly wet from where he’d drooled and the feeling of being well rested settled in his bones. It wasn’t the first time, had been happening more and more lately and he decided enough was enough.

____

_**Mark**  
My friend, roommate, Johnny, has an exhibition coming up for his photography, do you want to come?  
Obviously you don't have to  
I just think it would be cool if you did come  
Like really cool, i think it would be awesome if you came  
To the exhibit  
I'd really like it if you came  
…  
To the exhibit, obviously_

____

_**Yongie**  
omg you're adorable (≧▽≦)  
Sure i can come  
I’d love to look at some pictures  
And you  
dbjshshdb (´๑•_•๑)  
I meant it will be nice to finally see you in person_

__-_ _

Mark stood in front of the small space Johnny had rented for his exhibition, chewing on his lip nervously, hands stuffed into his pockets and heart hammering against his chest. He was a wreck and when Taeyong had admitted the night before that he already knew what Mark looked like, it hadn’t helped his nerves at all.

____

Apparently having a photographer best friend meant that even when you barely posted on your own social media it didn’t mean you didn’t appear on theirs.

____

Taeyong had already had a chance to judge, look at Mark’s angles, good and bad, scrolled through Johnny’s photos and seen Mark be a model or a meme depending on Johnny’s mood.

____

There was a picture of Mark looking like a floating head in the ocean, for crying out loud.

____

Mark wanted to go home, Mark wanted to hide forever under his duvet and pretend he didn’t exist.

____

“Mark?” A familiar voice pulled Mark from his panic and before he could prepare himself he was looking into the face of an actual model, slim limbs and perfect bone structure, front of a magazine, posted on billboards levels of beautiful.

____

“H-hi, wow, hi.” Mark’s throat felt tight and his thoughts were having trouble forming sentences beyond ‘ _wow_ ’ and ‘ _I love your face_ ’.

____

He felt lacking, similar to when he stood next to Yuta, plain and without distinction when standing next to somebody with idol-like beauty.

____

“It’s so good to meet you in person.” Taeyong smiled and Mark melted at the shape of it, the slight awkwardness to it.

____

“Yeah, it’s amazing, I mean good, like great good not just good, you know.” Taeyong laughed, high and slightly awkward and Mark managed to pull his eyes away from Taeyong’s face to look at his outfit, regretting it almost immediately. Taeyong was wearing tight jeans that would be Mark’s focus if it wasn’t for the low hanging cardigan that showed nothing but skin all the way down to his sternum.

____

It shouldn’t work, it shouldn’t look as good as it did but he looked amazing, like one of Johnny’s models.

____

Was it too early to ask Taeyong to marry him?

__  
_ _

Despite their awkward beginnings, where Mark had spent too long staring and not enough time talking, they’d actually managed to make it inside where the chill vibe had helped them relax into something easier, more familiar. 

____

They were finally talking like they did on the phone, Taeyong standing close, body warm and every brush of their arms making Mark feel like he was on fire.

____

Mark only stuttered through one of his explanations of the pictures on show when he realised the long lines of tan skin and moles was an almost perverse picture of his best friend.

____

Taeyong had laughed in his face and pretended to cover his eyes to save him and maybe Mark had blushed harder about that than he did about seeing Donghyuck in an almost sexual manner.

____

“And I guess this one is of me... “ Mark pulled up to a stop of a wide photo of the beach, sun lowering to change the clouds to a soft pink and an ocean full of small, gentle waves.

____

Mark was at the very edge of the photo, it was only the back of him but he remembered the day, Johnny dragging him from the apartment and across the city until they were walking across empty sand for what felt like hours.

____

“‘ _Loneliness_ ’.” Taeyong read from the small plaque underneath the image and Mark felt laid bare, felt like his emotions had been thrown on a projector and shown to the entire world, his throat clogging and his eyes stinging until Taeyong squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes. “Are you lonely, Mark?”

____

No judgement, just soft worry, care and affection. It made Mark’s insides feel like they were blooming, spring arriving in a swirl of laughter, understanding and a low cut cardigan. Old leaves fell away, leaving behind fresh new buds.

____

“No, not any more.” Mark looked at where their hands were entwined and smiled, small and shy, Taeyong smiling back, lifting his free hand to run it through Mark’s hair, squeezing the back of his neck gently.

____

It felt like reassurance and a promise that Taeyong wouldn’t leave Mark, wouldn’t let him be alone again and Mark had to clear his throat and duck his head to stop himself from doing something stupidly sappy.

____

“Tell me about this one.” Taeyong pulled them away from the moment, away from Mark’s internal struggle and pulled them to a stop in front of a picture of Sicheng and Ten dancing together.

__-_ _

“So you didn’t kiss and you didn’t go home with him? You just hugged each other before taking separate Ubers to your own apartments?” Donghyuck crossed his arms and looked at Mark with complete disgust. Mark felt like he was being scolded and having just woken up to be interrogated about the night before, he felt too fragile to defend his decisions.

____

“Does it look like I went home with him?” Mark grouched, trying to pull his covers back after they’d been ripped away when he’d not woken up fast enough for Donghyuck’s liking.

____

“But I saw him, and you and him and you together. You were holding hands, leaning into each other and looking like you belonged in engagement photos or stock photos of romance.”

____

“Stop it, it wasn’t- It was our first time meeting, I don’t even know if he likes me that way of if he was just being friendly.” Mark’s phone chose that exact moment to ping and he launched himself towards it before Donghyuck could get his grubby hacker hands on it.

____

_**Yongie**  
Last night was really fun, but it also means i get to pick the next location of our date_

____

“Date.” Mark repeated out loud and resisted the urge to hold his phone to his chest and squeal.

____

_**Mark**  
Date?  
So it was definitely a date thing and i wasn't just reaching?_

____

__**Yongie**  
I'd think you were teasing if i didn't know you better  
Of course it was a date, i even showed off my cleavage

____

The sound Mark made was between a pleased laugh and a groan at the missed opportunity, he probably could have kissed Taeyong last night.

__

“Oh god, are you okay?” Donghyuck looked at him with concern and Mark, instead of answering, threw himself face first into his pillows.

_-_

Knowing they’d technically already had a ‘first date’ didn’t make getting ready for what would technically be their second date any easier. Mark wanted to hide in his closet, he wanted to bury himself behind his clothes and maybe never come out.

__

“If you do that then you won’t get to see him.” Renjun was sprawled on his bed, kicking his feet in the air and ‘accidentally’ hitting Donghyuck with every left swing. Donghyuck, in retaliation, was trying to act like it wasn’t happening, faking calm in an effort to frustrate Renjun more.

__

Renjun’s kicks started to get a little harder.

__

“I know but look at me, I don’t deserve to see him, he’s actually the most beautiful man alive and I’m the little piece of plastic on the lace of a shoe.” Mark whined, picking out another black shirt and wondering how he’d managed to buy so many without realising.

__

“Firstly, it’s an aglet, stop pretending you didn’t watch Phineas and Ferb like the rest of us just to look smarter or whatever, and secondly, the most important part of this, I refuse to hang out with people less than an eight so it’s impossible for you to be ugly.

__

I only take on one charity case at a time and it’s still Renjun’s turn.” Donghyuck smiled at Mark and then there was a sudden blur as Renjun flew at him, punching him in the arm and thigh until Donghyuck begged for mercy, declaring that Renjun was prettier than the sun and he’d paint murals of Renjun’s face if that’s what Renjun wanted.

__

“Stop it, please, I really need help.” Mark whined again, adding a little more patheticness so they understood the severity of the situation.

__

“You will always need help.” Donghyuck said solemnly from where he was half buried under Renjun, dodging the pillow Renjun was trying to suffocate him with.

__

“Where are you two heading anyway? We need _context_ or we’ll end up dressing you wrong.” Renjun had changed tactics, pulling Donghyuck into a chokehold and squeezing every time Donghyuck tried to speak.

__

“His friend is in a play so we’re going to see that and then maybe dinner, or coffee, or dinner then coffee?” Mark found another black shirt, maybe there had been a sale at some point.

__

“Right, so we’re planning for an all eventualities kind of date. We can do this.” Donghyuck had finally managed to wriggle free and was crawling across the floor on his hands and knees, grabbing a soft looking blue jumper with a baggy roll neck that Mark had already decided against because it was too colourful but Donghyuck was holding it up, forcing it into Mark’s hands.

_-_

“Look there he is!” Taeyong whispered excitedly, tugging on Mark’s arm and pointing to the stage where Jung Jaehyun, _the Jung Jaehyun_ , an actual famous person that Mark had watched in films and had seen on television and had maybe gotten drunk with Johnny once and spent almost an hour gushing about the dimples of, appeared on stage.

__

They’d walked to the theatre together, Taeyong wearing a shirt and jeans this time and still managing to look ridiculously good despite the simplicity of his clothes, large wire frames perched on his nose that Taeyong kept pushing up self consciously.

__

“My eyes aren’t great in the dark.” He’d admitted and Mark had almost tripped over himself in trying to reassure Taeyong that he looked amazing. Taeyong in glasses was upsettingly adorable and Mark had had to spend the first twenty minutes of their time together not staring or forgetting how to speak.

__

“Your friend is Jung Jaehyun?” Mark squeaked, trying not to feel flustered or self-conscious. _Dimples_ his mind supplied when Jaehyun smiled on stage and Mark subtly touched his own face, wishing his skin was just as flawless.

__

“Isn’t he amazing?” Taeyong gushed, twining their fingers together and Mark felt his chest flutter at the contact.

__

“When you said ‘actor friend’ I didn’t think you meant like… Jung Jaehyun.”

__

“I should have warned you but look at your face, you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Taeyong teased, squeezing Mark’s hand gently and Mark gave a self deprecating laugh, sinking into his seat a little more.

_-_

When they met Jung Jaehyun after the show, Mark almost fainted after shaking his hand, starstruck and unable to believe that Jaehyun already knew his name, knew how he and Taeyong met and was close enough to Taeyong to tease him until his cheeks turned pink.

__

“Shut up, this is why I never let you talk to anybody.” Taeyong smacked Jaehyun’s arm, ( _Jung Jaehyun_ Mark’s mind screamed at him) and jokingly pretended to pull Mark away.

__

“Liar.” Jaehyun smiled and then turned his eyes on to Mark and Mark tried not to shrink under his gaze. “Did you like the play?”

__

“Oh it was, erm…” Mark chewed on his lip, wondering if he should give his actual opinion or lie. Maybe he could go for polite truth like ‘you acted really well’ and ‘the set was amazing’.

__

“Jae, it was _sooo_ depressing.” Taeyong finished for him, “At one point, I was trying to figure out how to make the show end and had spotted at least two people doing the same.”

__

“ _Taeyong_ , I’m trying to be a serious actor, I’m trying to get away from all the romantic comedies and dramas and really testing my skills.” Jaehyun whined and it startled a laugh out of Mark at how normal their interaction was. His laugh made Taeyong laugh which made Jaehyun laugh and then everything devolved into giggles and light jabs from there, with Taeyong leaning against Mark and laughing into his shoulder. His face was close, they were so close to each other and Mark wanted-  
He just _wanted_.

_-_

“I’m going to kiss you now.” Taeyong had Mark pressed against the wall between the theatre and a shop next door, had pulled Mark through one of the theatre back doors and pushed him against brick almost immediately, crowding in against Mark with a playful smile on his face.

__

“Y-yeah…” Mark replied smartly, taking in all of Taeyong, the soft blush of his cheeks, the flower shaped scar near his eye and then he’s focusing on the lips against his.

__

The soft, achingly sweet kiss reminds Mark of the first taste of cake, the first bite of ice-cream and it makes Mark’s nervous energy settle, has him twisting his fingers in Taeyong’s shirt.

__

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” Mark admitted, cheeks burning when they finally pull apart and his fingers toying with the hair on the back of Taeyong’s neck. He doesn’t even remember putting his hand there.

__

“Even when you didn’t know what I looked like?” Taeyong was still close, still pressed tight against Mark’s body and he could feel every puff of Taeyong’s breath. He wondered if Taeyong had done it on purpose, hidden his face because he’d been approached for his looks alone, for his the way he _seemed_ to be rather than the person he was.

__

“I-I have liked you since you sent me alternative ideas for lyrics in that first email. I was stupid on you when we started talking properly and it honestly, you could have looked like a sentient sewer blob and I would still be kissing you in this alley.” Mark hid his face in Taeyong’s shoulder and could feel the way his body shook with small chuckles, but there was a hand playing with Mark’s hair and another hand pressed to his hip, holding him steady.

__

“Mark Lee, _Mark Lee_ , why are you so perfect?” Taeyong said breathlessly, and then there were kisses being pressed to his cheek and his hairline and it sent shivers through Mark.

__

“I just think you’re standing too close to notice how imperfect I am.” Mark whispered, thinking of the way he’d tripped over his feet when he met Jaehyun, how he’d spent all afternoon trying to pick an outfit, the way he forgot how to speak when stressed.

__

Taeyong pulled back, face alight and he was scrambling in his pocket for something, his phone, and then thrusting it into Mark’s face, notepad app already open. “Write that down, those are good lyrics, they’re so good!” Taeyong enthused and it made Mark laugh at the ridiculousness of it, laugh so hard he could barely type and Taeyong had to take over.

_-_

The first email they’d shared had been Taeyong suggesting a lyrical change for the hook of a song, and Mark had been so excited that he’d fallen out of his chair and Yuta had had to help him up whilst trying not to laugh too hard at how ridiculous he was being.

__

Now he’s here, standing in Taeyong’s room in baggy joggers and a top that seemed to drown him after Taeyong and he had walked back from their restaurant date overly full, rain soaking them through as they laughed and fell into each other.

__

“Was the water pressure okay?” Taeyong asked, in his own baggy clothes, looking warm and ridiculously fluffy.

__

“It was perfect, better than the crappy shower I have back at my place.” Mark was trying not to feel awkward, fingers twisting the hem of his t-shirt until it squeezed his fingers and then releasing it, again and again and again until Taeyong was stopping him, pulling Mark’s hand away from the fabric and looking at Mark fondly.

__

“I can sleep on the sofa if that would make you feel better.” Taeyong offered and Mark shook his head, pulled Taeyong closer and kissed him because he wanted to, because he was allowed to and it made Taeyong smile every time they did it.

__

Each kiss they’d shared had been something romantic but the way Taeyong was sliding their lips together, tilting Mark’s head to the right so he could lick into his mouth, Mark’s thoughts on kissing were less innocent.

__

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

_  
_

It didn’t go further than kissing, Mark and Taeyong laid next to each other in Taeyong’s bed, trading soft kisses, sloppy kisses, deep kisses that made both of them moan, until their mouths were swollen smudges of red and their eyes were drooping.

__

Mark fell asleep curled in close, Taeyong’s cold fingers pressing into his back, the feeling of being held, being safe, making it the easiest it had been in a while to fall into blissful unconsciousness.

_-_

_Per our last correspondence_ , Mark’s heart fluttered in his chest like he hadn’t seen Taeyong that morning, hadn’t seen Taeyong almost every day in the last week, woken up pressed against him and traded small kisses despite their morning breaths.

__

Taeyong was good at breakfasts, good at making food and Mark was more than happy to wash the dishes after, letting Taeyong cling to his back the entire time while Ruby ran around their feet and Doyoung made disgusted noises from the kitchen table, sipping his coffee and pretending he didn’t have hickies from Jungwoo lining his neck.

__

“Stop smiling at your computer like that, it’s so creepy.” Yuta threw a stress ball at his head and Mark watched it bounce across his desk before rolling away.

__

“Stop watching me smile at my computer, that’s even creepier.”

__

**Author's Note:**

> posting on my brithday because why not  
> also some of my coding didn't take, so it's not as sleek as I would have liked but oh well
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/lycheerio)


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